For Those We Love We Also Hate
by JanuaryWinter
Summary: And I hate it sometimes, when I look at him and realize he has never been belittled, told that his existence was a mistake, that all people like him were inferior and deserved to die. And I hate him for it, I hate him for being so damn perfect.


**I own only the story, not the Characters.** _This was just something I really needed to get off my chest. But please tell me how you feel._

One of the hardest things in life in falling in love with someone who is completely opposite from you. Well maybe not completely, let us just say opposite from you. That's not to say we do not have things in common, we both have a love of literature. We have spent countless hours in the presence of one another feeling completely at ease while reading our own books. Our minds in two separate worlds, one reading fictitious adventures, where the good always wins, and the other reading history where the strong wins, not necessarily the good. Those we the great times, where we could be in each other's presence, yet still be in our own worlds without the other getting angry.

In the beginning it was great. We both were trying to impress the other, hiding all of our nasty little faults, making ourselves seem like the perfect fit for the other. Then time went on, and our differences started to manifest. At first we were both hopeless romantics, but as it turns out it was only one of those things that lasted for a little bit. It became less romantic, and more physical. But we were young, in love, and not thinking of the future. We would make out for hours, our hands roaming each other's bodies. I honestly don't know if the first time we made love was actually making love, or if it was just sex. Either way I was not ready, but I was surprised and I didn't know how to react. Afterwards I just cried. Why? I have no idea, I mean it hurt, but that wasn't the reason I cried. I think it was just because I wasn't ready. I mean it was not romantic at all, it wasn't slow and sweet, we didn't look into each other's eyes. Maybe it was my fault for over fantasizing it. After that we couldn't stop doing it. Whether it be in the safety of my own room, or at night in a public place, with a vanishing charm. Really it was quite irresponsible, but we were young and in love. But then, for me at least the physical need started to weaken, and soon it was completely gone. But I would still give in, still make love, but he hated it because I was "all there." He said it made me feel unloved. So I got really good at faking it, and once again everything was great.

But, things can be great for only so long. Once again, our differences began to creep in. I mean I used to be quite when I was younger, but as I got older I started to mature and become more outgoing. I loved people, I loved to be surrounded by people, and I loved to put on my best dress robes, get my hair and makeup done, and go out. I loved to go to bars, clubs, be surrounded by people. And he, well he hated it. He became so introverted after the war. Well I supposed I never knew him before it either, maybe he was always introverted but he put on a great tough guy act. When we did go out, he always managed to ruin it. He would just sit there, with this condescending look on his face. Never speaking to anything, just being there. It was so frustrating. He would encourage me to go out without him, but where was the fun in that? Not to mention, he hated the friends I would go out with anyways. My two best friends are guys. And he hates it, he gets so insanely jealous. He hates when I hang out with them. And I mean hates. He'll get passive aggressive when I mention that I'm going to hang out with them. And I've tried to bridge the gap and try to get all us all to hang out together. But he'll sit there with his condescending look, his stupid look of superiority, and that damn sarcastic smirk he does, and his sickening fake smiles. Then we'll get home, and I'll make a snide comment about his effort, and there begins another fight. And when we fight it's like a battlefield. He can be so nasty, attacking my character rather than the argument, and he is so damn defensive. He'll bring up things from the past, things that have no real significant value, because we weren't even together, but if I did it once, well damn I'll do it again. He likes to throw it in my face, you know the fact that Ron and I had a brief thing. He is so quick to throw it in my face, always saying how I have lingering feelings and that's why I always want to hang out with him. He wants to me to never see him again, but he's my best friend. And I never agree to it, and I think he hates me for it. But he never lets on, and he's always back to normal in the morning.

I was always jealous of the girls with the outgoing boyfriends. Like Ginny and Luna. Why couldn't I have a boyfriend like Harry or Blaise? One who was just so outgoing and friendly and made friends with everyone. It would be so wonderful. But instead I got stuck with someone who hates anyone besides his friends, and refuses to make new ones.

And you know, the thing with him is he has been best friends with his friends since practically birth. I mean they had always been together, even one of his friend's current girlfriend had been included in the group since childhood. While I met my friends in school. That's not to take away from the amazing friendships I have. But I mean I was a little jealous that he had a whole group he had always been friends with. I wanted to be a part of that group so bad. I wanted to fit in, and at the time I foolishly thought I could. But his friends were mean, and spiteful, and just rude. Well no, some were genuinely good people on their own, but together they were ruthless. But I made an effort, I always hung out with them, conversed with them, played stupid games with them. But did he ever make the same effort to get to know my friends? Nope. I mean yeah, they hated each other before, but we have all gotten over it. Moved passed it. But even with my new friends, never did he make an effort to hang out with, or get to know them. It was like pulling teeth with him. So I gave up on trying.

Then there was family, since I erased the memory of my parents, and then restored it there was always tension. It was awkward to speak to them, relate to them, and even be on civil terms with them. But they loved him, always welcomed him, even though he never wanted to be around them. And his, god his were so damn perfect. They loved each other so much, it was nothing like I had expected it to be. They were surprising welcoming to me, well his father wasn't at first, but he came around. Do you know how sickening it was to see how damn perfect his family is? And it's like he threw it in my face. Always inviting me to family events. Even his extended family was perfect, well that of his dad's side, his mom's side was something from the past they chose not to speak of. But my goodness, it was like everyone in his family had a perfect gene. They were all pleasant, and so damn good looking. I secretly wished that someone would get fat, or something just so I wouldn't always feel like the ugly duckling. It's so damn annoying how perfect they are, sometimes I can't stand it.

It makes me feel so dirty inside. I know this may sound completely ridiculous, but at times it makes me feel so ashamed of my muggle heritage. Then I hate myself all over again. It hard you know. I got that disgusting word removed from by body years ago, and I have done so much to help make this world a better place for people like me. I've given countless speeches, helping take the sting out of the word mudblood. And though, there is still lots of work to be done, it's a lot better for us now. And don't get me wrong, I believe I have every right as those purebloods do, and that we are completely equal, I know that in my brain and in my heart. But knowing it and actually feeling it are two completely different things. On the inside I feel dirty, I feel disgusted. And he's told me over and over how great I am, how sorry he is for ever calling me a mudblood, and that I should never feel bad, and what his great aunt Bellatrix did was an act of an insane woman, who deserved to die for her barbaric way of thinking. But that never makes me feel any better, doesn't make those self-loathing feelings just disappear. And I hate it sometimes, when I look at him and realize he has never been belittled, told that his existence was a mistake, that all people like him were inferior and deserved to die. And I hate him for it, I hate him for being so damn perfect. Then I hate myself, for letting myself feel like a disgusting piece of trash, for not being strong even to feel like a human being who is worthy, for not feeling the way that I should, the way I encourage others to feel.

I wanted to break up so many times, but I always found an excuse. A birthday coming up, e anniversary, a holiday. So I would talk myself out of it every time, claiming our love can survive this rough patch. But if I'm honest, it's not a rough patch. It's our relationship. Me giving up everything I want and crave because he hates it. When did I become this person? I was a war hero, one third of the golden trio. The brightest witch of our age. And I hate all the stupid the heart wants what the heart wants bullshit. So because I love him, and my heart wants him, I'm supposed to sacrifice everything that makes me, well me. And believe me, I have tried to leave him. But every time I do, I have a panic attack, it's like if I leave him I'll die. I start to cry uncontrollably and make him promise over and over to never leave me. And he promises. I think he secretly likes it, the sick prick. He loves having the upper hand in the relationship. Knowing that I love him with all my heart, yet hate him with every fiber in my being. He thrives on it, gets high from it even. But I am so damn scared of being alone. So scared that I won't find someone, that I won't be good enough for anyone. Which is no fault of his, he does praise me and consider himself lucky. I feel like I'm missing so much, but then I don't want to give up something I've been hoping for my entire life.

And so it ends, with me giving up all I am to stay with him, yet at the same time giving up nothing to destroy us. I know it doesn't make sense, but then again neither does our relationship. So I guess writing this is all pointless. A pointless attempt, at something that could have been great. Actually, I think that describes us quite perfectly.


End file.
